


the thrill of hope

by chasingflower



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parallel Universes, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, also a mug of hot chocolate but he'll get one, we be BRINGING the tears today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-13 08:24:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21241103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingflower/pseuds/chasingflower
Summary: As soon as he lands, something inside him settles. He knows, now, thatthisis where he’s supposed to be. This is it, not the other universe, or any of the previous – this is it; this ishome.The problem he has now is convincing Dr. Strange, who’s looking at him with a panicked expression.





	the thrill of hope

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Infinite Ends Where We Begin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929353) by [ironfamjam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironfamjam/pseuds/ironfamjam). 

> basically i read this AMAZING fic and then a worm ate my brain and said "oh what if this happened instead" and i had to write it out even tho i have an exam in 24 hours.
> 
> this fic will definitely make more since if u read what it was based on, but if u need a refresher: there was a portal and peter jumped into it, ended up in a bunch of parallel universes and lands in one where tony lived and he died. there's more technical stuff that's implied that's all my work, and if it needs clarification pls reach out!!!! 
> 
> title from tuning out by bastille

As soon as he lands, something inside him settles. He knows, now, that _this_ is where he’s supposed to be. This is it, not the other universe, or any of the previous – this is it; this is _home_.

The problem he has now is convincing Dr. Strange, who’s looking at him with a panicked expression.

“I- it’s me, really, I – this is my universe, I need to be here,” he stutters, words falling out of his mouth without a second thought. His priority is to speak, to explain, but he’s not sure what he’s saying, he just hopes it’s enough. “I think, I think during the Snap? Or maybe before, me and this Peter, the one who’s,” and he gestures to the other room, voice trailing off. “We switched, somehow. I don’t – I don’t know why, but this – this is where I’m supposed to be, and you _can’t_ send me back, because this is where I’m supposed to be.” His chest hurts with the force of his words, with the panic and the pure desperation behind them, because this is _home_, but if Dr. Strange doesn’t approve, he could send him back –

He’s panicking.

“This can’t be your universe, Peter,” he starts, and Peter feels his vision get blurry with unshed tears. “It’s been two weeks since the Snap, it’s not possible.” He sounds upset, almost remorseful, but now Peter’s angry. He’s put up with so much for so long only to be told no?

“No,” Peter says, and he’s tries to keep his voice even. “This is where I’m meant to be. I have this, this sensor, right here,” and he lifts his sleeve to show him, watches as his eyebrows raise in surprise. “You, you gave it to me, and told me not to jump into the portal, but I had too, I saw Mr. Stark, and now I’m back, and I – I _can’t_ have to send me away when I finally have everything again.” He’s sobbing now, and it’s ugly; huge sobs being ripped from his chest, from his lungs, and he’s choking on them. He tries to suck in a breath, to regulate his breathing because the last thing he wants is to hyperventilate in front of Dr. Strange (he’s trying to get himself back together, but it’s easier said than done).

Dr. Strange takes a step forward. He looks at him, and Peter feels like he’s being scrutinized, being dissected, and he bites his lip to keep it from trembling and tries to stand up straighter.

His eyes narrow, just slightly, and he mumbles something under his breath. Dr. Strange reaches for Peter’s arm, but pauses, and asks, “Do you mind if I take a look?”

Peter does mind, actually, and his immediate thought is Dr. Strange is going to press the button and then where is he going to end up? He almost works himself into yet another panic, but Dr. Strange must see something in his expression.

He nods once and takes the brace off his wrist.

Peter feels an immediate weight dropped of his shoulders. He doesn’t know why, he thought he already felt calmer, more whole, but it’s centering. He feels even more grounded, reinforcing his initial instinct that this really _is_ where he’s meant to be, and again: why _hasn’t_ he been here, why did he get switched, how did he get switched –

Dr. Strange sucks in a breath. “Peter, your arm, it’s scarred –”

Peter makes a noise of surprise.

All the way up his left arm is what he assumes is scar tissue; faded, twisted looking burns traveling from his palm to his shoulder. It aches, he realizes, and he looks at his hand and wonders when this happened. “What –” he begins, only to cut himself off. “Wait, did I do the snap?”

If anything, Dr. Strange looks more worried, more confused. “You did, and then you _died,_ Peter, I’m not sure of what you’ve done, but this is your universe. You might have, I suppose, switched places with a different Peter to compensate for the power of the stones, but even then, I have no concrete proof of how this has happened.” He looks focused, and very intense on the current problem at hand.

Peter takes a second to comprehend what has been said. “Wait, you – you believe me?” He takes a shuddering breath and feels it deep in his lungs. He feels jittery, also, like he’s so close to getting everything he needs but it’s a hairsbreadth away –

“We need to get everything packed up, and then we can head back to the tower,” Peter hears Tony Stark say, and he whirls around, heart pounding.

_This is real, this is real, he’s alive and he’s here_, his brain chants at him, screams at him, and it takes all of Peter’s self-restraint to not go flying into his arms.

(After being in a universe where he called him Dad, the urge to follow suit is so easy – it’s _painful_ to bite the name back, to keep it contained and he thinks he’s going to _explode_ –)

He watches at Mr. Stark freezes in place. His eyes go wild, and he looks between the two of them in a frenzy, almost like he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing.

“Strange, what the hell is this,” he gets out, and his voice is rough, almost gravely as it goes through his throat. Peter watches as his arm extends forward for a moment, only to fall back to his side. Peter notices him clench his fist and flex his fingers immediately after.

“I’m imagining things, that’s what. I’ve gone crazy, this isn’t real –”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter says, and it’s more of a sob than anything. He longs to run out and hug him, it’s visceral, he needs the comfort or he’s going to _die_, but he has to wait for him to make the first move because this is Peter’s funeral, _his_ funeral, so it doesn’t make sense for him to be alive, let alone flinging himself into his mentor’s arms .

(The thing is: Peter hasn’t been an “intern”. It’s always been _more_ from the very beginning. By saying their relationship is purely professional isn’t accurate and it never was; this was protection for the both of them, because they both got attached too quickly and then had to deal with the fall out. They’re family, perhaps not by blood but by choice, and the titles of ‘mentor’ and ‘intern’ have been a farce, merely a way to disguise how deep the relationship is).

“Tony,” Dr. Strange says, voice even and clear. Mr. Stark looks at him, and his eyes are bright. Peter feels a pang deep in his chest, and he _aches_ so much, he’s so close to what he wants –

“Tony, this is him. It’s Peter.” A pause. “It’s _our_ Peter.”

And Peter sees that Mr. Stark is crying now, and if _he’s_ crying then Peter’s definitely going to cry as well.

“What – what happened,” he says, and Peter now doesn’t care, he can’t think straight – he lunges into Mr. Stark’s arms, and is met with the most bone crushing, most enveloping hug of his life.

“I, I don’t know,” Peter sobs, and presses his face into Mr. Stark’s neck. “I was in a different place, and you Snapped, and then it’s been _weeks_ and now I’m here, and I’m _home_, and I don’t know what happened or why but I missed you so much,” and he’s still sobbing, and so is Mr. Stark, but he’s also whispering consolatory words to him, brushing his hair and shushing him.

“Shh, Pete, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Mr. Stark says, voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay,” and it’s intimate, a father reuniting with his son.

Peter nods, shaky, and takes what he says. He has to, or he doesn’t have a different option; he’s tethered, right now – and it’s Tony; it’s Mr. Stark, his _dad_, and he knows that it’s going to be okay but he doesn’t know how or when.

Dr. Strange must have left at some point because Peter lifts his head to look at Mr. Stark and notices the room is empty, save for the two of them.

It’s okay.

He’s okay.

“I’ve got you, Pete. I don’t know what happened, but you – you’re _alive_, kiddo, you’re back and that is more than I ever hoped for,” and his voice splinters as the sentence progresses, and Peter keeps sobbing. Mr. Stark tightens his grip and presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I’ve got you back, and you’re okay; you’re home, and I’m never letting you out of my sight, you hear?” He tries to joke but the tone falls flat.

Peter picks up on it for what it is and give him a watery smile. “Yeah,” he says. “Loud and clear, Mr. Stark,” and he lets out a small laugh at the expression on his face when he says Mr. Stark.

“Don’t you think we’ve graduated from that one, Pete? Mr. Stark, really?” he says, and Peter knows he’s trying to turn the mood around, make it less somber and bring some life back into it.

Peter shrugs as best he can. “I could call you sir, is that better?”

A tug on his ear tells him it’s not, and he actually does laugh this time. He watches as Mr. Stark lights up, and Peter is suddenly struck with just how _lucky_ is his to be here, to be back. He doesn’t want to start crying, he doesn’t, he feels like that’s all he’s been doing for hours, but he does feel that Mr. Stark deserves this much, at least:

“What, what about if I called you Dad?” Peter says, tone more subdued. “’s what I called you in private, or with Ned. I never got to tell you until now.”

The hug gets tighter, and Peter makes himself look up at Mr. Stark. His eyes are red around the edges, and bright; he looks so _happy_, and Peter doesn’t know if it’s him or what happened to cause it.

“Yeah, kid,” he says, and Peter presses his face back into Mr. Stark’s shoulder. “That’s got approval from me.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank u so so much for reading!!! it means the world to me ilyyy
> 
> my tumblr is @evahmohns if u are interested!!


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